The Edge
by Jeelynasaurus
Summary: Angst, horror, and a hero with a bomber jacket. All will be well in the end. Dark!Germany and Hero!America


_When I'm on the edge of death, I'd hope you'd come to save me._

You struggled to take in air as the hands over your throat clenched tighter, and spots swam before your eyes.

"Tch. You keep trying _, and next time I really will kill you. Got it?" To emphasis his point, your captor threw you into the wall of the small, windowless room that had been your home for the last eight months.

As your back hit the hard stone, you winced in pain, and allowed yourself to slide down until your body hit the floor, your lungs desperately gulping in air. With a slam, the large metal door shut, and the heavy boots of your captor faded into the distance.

After you had successfully calmed your beating heart, you shakily stood up, touching your back to see the seemed to be a small cut on one of your shoulder blades, but it would stop bleeding quickly. You had been dealt far worse wounds while here; the multiple scars on your body proved it.

On tired legs you walked to the small blow up mattress that was laying in the corner of the room, being the only piece of furniture or item besides a toilet, sink, and shower. Apparently, your kidnapper could afford the best for you. With a snort, you settled down onto the mattress, waiting for the real punishment.

The choking had been simply a pretense, you knew what was really coming. Every time you had tried to escape, it would result in the same thing. Normally, the blonde haired, blue eyed man who kept you in perpetual hell would beat you, but only enough to form bruises, never to break anything. And he didn't touch you in any innappropriate way except for when he was drunk.

This schedule, this was the way of things, and when it came to horrors, you knew you had received the lesser. But whenever you tried to escape, those rules went out the window, for reasons you could only guess. The first time, he had broken your arm. That had been by far the worse, maybe because you had never experienced such pain before.

The second time, your arm, and multiple ribs, causing you to be in endless, relenting pain for months on end. No painkillers in hell. He always made sure to keep one arm working, so you could shower and do necessary things for yourself. But you had a feeling this time would be different, because the third time you had tried to escape, he had broken one of your legs along with your arm, nose, and multiple ribs. Apparently, he had figured out that he could always help you should he need to.

You were pretty sure your arms were going to be messed up forever if they kept getting broken like this. You always made sure to wait for your body to fully heal before you tried escaping again, but still. It would be just your luck.

The scrape of metal against the ground echoed through the room as the door to your unlit hole in the ground opened, revealing a toned, muscular body, with a face that angels sang about, covered in slicked back blonde hair, and holding two beautiful blue orbs.

You thought he was the ugliest man in the world.

His military outfit and heavy brown boots came towards you, as you slowly began to brace your body for the pain that about to come. However, instead of grabbing you and beginning the torture, he simply stood at the edge of the bed. His hard voice rang through the air.

"What is my name?"

Confused and apprehensive, you looked up at him. After a seconds hesitation, you answered, knowing it was better not to keep him waiting.

"Ludwig . . . ?" He had forced you to say it many times during the drunken hours of hate filled sexual activities. The R word was something you could not bring yourself to think.

"Precisely!" A hand yanked you by your hair and your head came up,a knife at your throat before you could even realize what was going on.

"And I will not tolerate this disrespect! I have decided to do what I threatened earlier, _."

Fear slithered into your heart as you came to understood his words. He was going to finally kill you. There had been times where you had wished it, simply to end this pitiful existence. But, above all, you were a fighter, and wanted to live. You had not cracked yet. And you weren't going to start now.

With a grunt, you brought your head up and into his, causing him to release you and curse in pain. Unfortunately, you had never done it before, and didn't realize the pain it would also send through your temples, shooting behind your eyes as everything blackened for a moment. But you were brought out of the darkness by a punch to your gut, red liquid spraying out of your mouth at the force.

The knife slid across the skin of your stomache quickly after, and you cried out in pain, falling over backwards and laying sprawled on the ground, staring in increduality at the mass of blood seeping from your center. A scream was dragged from your lips as a foot connected with the wound, and grinded into it.

"You were always just an expendable toy for me to play with, _. Maybe if you had remembered that, you would still be alive in a couple of minutes."

Suddenly, the foot crushing your body was gone, and through the hazy fog that was your vision as you slowly bled out, you saw two figures struggling. You closed your eyes, your mind too dazed to fully comprehend what was happening or to even try. You were dying, on the cold dirt floor of a hole in the ground.

Your mind retreated into its own world, as it began to shut down.

. . . .

"_?" Called a voice, sounding far away and strangely familiar.

"_!"

You struggled, but finally manage to open your eyes, wanting to see the person who was connected with this strange voice, and the strange arms that were carrying you out currently. When the man holding you saw you were awake, his eyes lit up.

"Hey, _, I've got you, you're going to be okay. I'm getting you out of this place."

At first, you couldn't believe your ears, but when your eyes glanced around the room and saw the bloody, decapitated body of the man who had tried to rob you of your life, you finally understood. The relief didn't come though, as it wouldn't come until you were truly out of this hole that was a haven for all things terrifingly real.

When sudden bright light hit your eyes, you made a small sound and clenched them shut quickly, not being able to move your arms to cover them. Soon though, your eyes adjusted, and you slowly opened them, seeing in front of you a plane with medical equipment, ready to fly you to the nearest hospital, and stablize you before you reached there.

Your rescuer slid you into the stretcher on the plane, and signaled for lift off. You stared up into the face holding another, softer, pair of blue eyes, and covered by shaggy blonde hair, recognizing it from a place long ago. A place you had thought you'd never return to.

"A-Alfred . . . ?"

"Hey, _."


End file.
